Song of the Siren
by CeceVolume
Summary: OS. This is for Klaroline AU Week 2019: Mythological Creatures. Caroline is just a young siren, not completely in control of her powers. When she prays to the gods to be saved from the humans who had imprisoned and tortured her, she wasn't ready for the God of Death to be the answer.


_Klaroline AU Week 2019 is a go! Here is my first oneshot for the week with the prompt _Mythological Creatures.

SONG OF THE SIREN

Chest heaving, Caroline squeezed her eyes shut, fingers biting into the brick wall at her back. Could she quiet the sound of her breaths, the frantic beating of her heart? The humans had sent their finest trackers to recapture her before she found a way to get her voice back.

If she could just get rid of the damned collar around her neck, they wouldn't be able to resist her.

Focusing on the fact that she had nearly broken it free before she'd had to run again, she was able to calm herself—at least to the point where even those damnable Hunters wouldn't be able to pick out the sounds of her shuddering body. If it weren't for the fact that she had no idea where she was or even if there was anyone like her out there, she might have tried to find help; but how could she know who would betray her and send her back to that awful lab?

Shuddering at the unbidden memory of her rib cage being torn open while they fiddled with her organs, Caroline couldn't bear to open her eyes, fearing she'd see Dr. Fell's face staring back at her once again. _I can't go back. Gods, please, don't make me go back,_ she prayed, knowing it would likely fall on deaf ears. What did the gods care about one siren in the grand scheme?

That was when she heard the ever-so-light sound of the humans' footsteps coming up the street, closing in on the alleyway where she'd hidden. Stifling a hiccough of fear, she glanced around, finding only a dumpster to potentially hide her.

But they would scour every possible inch of the town where she'd hoped to lose them; was a pile of rubbish any more protection than standing out in the open?

Tears filled her eyes, as they came closer and closer. How would she escape them? She couldn't go back, couldn't stand being vivisected again for those sadists' pleasure. Gods, wouldn't someone—anyone—help her? If they could just help her remove her collar, she could take them. Just a little help—

A hand suddenly covered her mouth and her eyes shot open in terror. They had found her. Oh, gods, why hadn't she been paying more attention? She'd known they were close, she should have taken the chance to run, she should have disappeared when she had the _time_.

"Keep quiet, love," a faintly accented voice murmured in her ear. "You asked the gods for a savior and they have sent _me_."

She could have sagged against him, so immense was her relief. After nearly a year of being locked away and tortured, she was _finally_ going to be free. The first thing she would do was run as far away as she could…and then she would relax under the hot spray of a well-deserved shower.

_Wash away the blood, _my_ blood,_ she thought as a relieved tear slid down her cheek.

"No time for that, love," he muttered, turning her towards him as the collar around her neck fell free.

As her eyes met his for the first time, she couldn't help but wonder at the color she saw. Blue was too tame a word; they seemed to hold every shade from the navy outside ring until the black of his pupil. There were faint smile lines at the edge of those eyes, making her mistake the intensity within them for kindness. He had lightly curling russet hair, fashionably cut to accentuate the angles of his face. Full lips were frozen in a half-smile as he stared down at her, seemingly in awe.

"Thank you," she whispered, hoping her gratefulness was as obvious as it was strong. With a small grin on her face, she asked, "Who are you?"

The dangerous gleam that came to his gaze made her heart stop as what looked like fangs showed through his smirk. "Darling, I'm about to show you how I became the God of Death."

-.-.-.-.-.-

He hadn't expected his new charge to be quite so beautiful. Despite the dried blood dying her from head to toe, there was something in her green eyes that captivated him; she would never be able to lie to him.

After his brother Elijah, King of the Gods, had called for him, issuing him this particular task, Klaus had almost wanted to deny his "request". He'd always believed in free will. Besides, it wasn't his fault that some young siren had gotten herself captured. Nor was it his fault that the humans were attacking the immortals that had so long tried to elude them.

But Elijah had made it a Firm Request. Whatever was happening, the King was invested. It wouldn't surprise his younger brother if he had even conferred with the all-knowing Fates in this quest of his.

So, Klaus had gone. As trivial as it was, it would be easy to squelch a minor human incursion; he hadn't come by his title lightly.

Yet everything had seemed to stop when she turned to look at him. Watching the fear melt into relief on her face had invigorated him as nothing else had in millennia. Oh, the atrocities he could commit if it meant knowing this one little siren.

His siblings would think him mad, bringing an immortal into his home, but it was of no consequence to him. It was not as taboo as bringing a mortal into the gods' realm, though still frowned upon, but he had so little to do with them from his place in the Underworld; what did their whispers matter? A black sheep did as a black sheep did and if he wanted a siren, he would take her, whatever means necessary.

"Stay here," he murmured, turning back to the matter at hand. "I will retrieve you momentarily." Gently setting her away—_must get her away from this filth_—he pulled his prized battle axe from his back, unthinkingly spinning it within his grasp.

She opened her mouth to speak, but he stopped her with a glare. Trepidation leapt in those wonderous eyes of hers and he had the odd urge to soothe it. For centuries, he hadn't thought of another's comfort, yet two minutes in her presence made him yearn for hers.

Who was this bloody creature?

"Your name," he demanded, suddenly furious that she had any sway over him when he knew nothing of her, only emphasized more by the loss of his ability to speak properly. "Give me your name."

Eyes wide, she whispered, "Caroline."

-.-.-.-.-.-

She shouldn't have told him her name, she realized as he once again turned from her. She should have asked him to take her away. Whoever he was, he had no idea what he was getting into; there were dozens of humans waiting to attack and he was only one man. What could he possibly do against an army?

"Please," she said, trying to call upon the innate power of her people that she had never been able to fully control. Lifting a hand to his shoulder, she watched as that beautiful blue gaze turned back to her. "Please, just take me _away_."

With a soft male chuckle, he moved his focus back on the encroaching mortals. "I will, love. Once I've dealt with _them_."

The confidence—arrogance?—of the statement hit her before the implications. _If_ he defeated all the humans, why would he need to take her away? She could protect herself. But if it was sheer audacity he had going for him….

"Give me _your_ name," she said quickly. "Who are you and why are you here to protect me?"

His entire body froze at that and she could see his knuckles whiten at their grip on the awe-inspiring axe he so easily twisted this way and that, almost as if she had surprised him. But he didn't spare a glance her way when he answered, "I am Klaus, God of Death and the Underworld, commander of all that dwells beneath the earth. I was sent by my brother to get you to safety, nothing more."

Holding her breath, she expected more. Why were _gods_ interested in _her_? Why would they heed her prayers now, but not in those god-awful labs? _Why did they care when she was now so close to freedom but not when she cried for them for a year?_

He said nothing more, though. Perhaps he felt he didn't need to. Perhaps he thought she knew whatever importance she held.

Either way, there wasn't much more time for words as the humans discovered their hidden alley, turning their force on them, brandishing their weapons. They were prepared to attack, knowing they were going to win.

Only they didn't.

Before she could even reason out a way to help him, Klaus was gone, disappearing like smoke from his place in front of her, signaled only by the sudden screams of the men and women as his blade sliced through their weak skin. He tore through them like a plague, unseen and lethal, leaving no one in his wake as he worked his way through the crowd.

The carnage made her nauseous.

She hadn't wanted this to happen. She hadn't wanted to leave blood and entrails in the wake of her escape; she just didn't want to _hurt_ anymore. As anyone might, she didn't think of the consequences of her prayers, hadn't thought of how she would get away.

And the cost was too much. There was no price on the lives he destroyed in an effort to answer her prayers. Gods, she had to make it _stop_.

"Please," she whispered, choking on tears that burned her throat. "Please, don't do this."

He paused only long enough for her to make out his face. There was bloodlust in his blackening eyes, a feral mix between a snarl and a smirk on his lips. He was _enjoying_ it.

"Stop!" she called, wishing that she could be as persuasive as the other sirens, force him to end the bloodbath. "Gods, just stop!"

But the gurgling cries for help didn't cease, even as they turned to flee. No one was safe from him, whether pleading, retreating, or attacking. He cut through them with ease, making sure it wasn't easy for them to die. It was clear he was _choosing_ not to give them a quick death; he was _relishing_ in their _suffering_.

She couldn't take it anymore. As she dropped to her battered knees on the asphalt, trying desperately not to let the tears stop her, she felt something rising within her, a tsunami of control she had never felt before. It rose from her belly to her throat, nesting there.

_I am the only one who can stop this,_ she thought.

Crying out, she shrieked, "Stop this!"

Everything went silent. Humans that were in mid-run stopped in their tracks, breathing heavily as they chanced a look over their shoulders at her. Those who chose to fight dropped their weapons, fear spreading through their features. Even those in agony on the ground stopped whimpering and moaning, holding deathly still.

And Klaus stood in the thick of it all, his eyes wide with shock, though they were quickly glazing over with fury.

She could see he was fighting her order—nearly winning as his fingers flexed against the handle of his axe, and panicked. It was the only way to describe the adrenaline pumping through her.

"Don't come near me!" she cried, scrambling to her feet with her hands thrown out in front of her, waving wildly. Backing up, Caroline hoped her powers would hold long enough for her to get safe. "Go home!"

The humans that could still move didn't even bother to grab their comrades; they immediately took off in all directions but towards her, surprise and awe shining brightly on their faces.

Even Klaus, standing amongst the fallen, twitched as if he would follow suit, but the mutinous clench of his jaw told her it wouldn't be that easy. She had inadvertently offended a _god_ and he would show her the error of her ways.

Trying to take in more than a shallow breath, she backed away, looking around frantically for an escape. On the opposite side of the alley, she could hear the engines of cars turning over for humans to start their daily routines. In a few minutes, the sun would begin to rise.

Could she make it to one of the vehicles before Klaus broke through her spell?

Trying to steady herself—and come up with bravado she didn't truly have—Caroline locked eyes with him one last time, throwing her shoulders back. Maybe she could give him one last order, make him stop for just long enough….

"Don't follow me, Klaus," she ordered, retreating as quickly as she could without losing eye contact. "I'm sorry, but I couldn't let you…_maul_ them. Thank you, but it was too much." _These are _lives_ not a fucking bracelet, you dumbass,_ she berated herself. _Just give the order and hope he gets over it. _"You can't follow me for a _year_!"

His body locked as if he were tied up, completely clenching as he acknowledged her persuasion. If it weren't for the menacing grin spreading across his face, she might have believed it would hold.

"Oh, love," he muttered just before she turned to run. "I most certainly _can._"


End file.
